


10 Considerations Towards a Confession

by Lies_Unfurl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Episode: s15e18 Despair, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Second Person, Prose Poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27413644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lies_Unfurl/pseuds/Lies_Unfurl
Summary: X. You have always comforted yourself with the thought that in some place and some time, the both of you are happy. There is a world where there was no apocalyptic aspect to your meeting, where you got to learn each other in quiet moments and in careful touches. There is a world where neither of you has ever died. There is a world where you told him you loved him the moment you realized it. There are worlds where he might even say it back.None of those worlds are yours, and all of those worlds are gone. There are no dreams left here.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 14
Kudos: 86





	10 Considerations Towards a Confession

_X_. You have always comforted yourself with the thought that in some place and some time, the both of you are happy. There is a world where there was no apocalyptic aspect to your meeting, where you got to learn each other in quiet moments and in careful touches. There is a world where neither of you has ever died. There is a world where you told him you loved him the moment you realized it. There are worlds where he might even say it back.

None of those worlds are yours, and all of those worlds are gone. There are no dreams left here.

_IX_. Your hand bleeds. It has bled since the moment you first touched him. You have always been happy to bleed for him.

_VIII_. There’s no time to waste on any emotion as useless as regret, but spare a thought for the others you leave behind—for the son you’ve failed to raise, the brother who has already lost so much. You’ve no goodbye to offer them, no last sentiment to salve their grief. You cannot protect them any more.

Your death will add to the burden he bears, a load no longer shared. Were the last hour not so near to killing, you might indulge in self-loathing: in thinking how typical that is of you, to make his life worse under the guise of good intentions. Perhaps it’s for the best, that you’ve got no chance to dwell on such things.

_VII_. How righteous he is, how lovely. How lucky are you to have known him.

_VI_. Nothing awaits you on the other side. Eons of memories erased, moments known to no other angels, to no being left alive except perhaps for God. The songs you heard sung in languages whose existence no linguist has ever even theorized. The long-extinct species you once walked among, who left no trace in the fossil record. The bright colors in the finger paintings from the orphaned child whose brief life you observed, who died days later and left behind no kin. When you are gone, so will they be.

None of those losses will hurt half as much as the knowledge that in a moment all you’ve learned of him—the way his eyes crinkle after his terrible jokes, the weight of his hand on your back, the depths of his love and grief—all that will burn to nothingness along with you.

_V_. It’s terrible to see how much these simple truths about his character hurt him. You didn’t remind him of them enough when you had the chance. You wasted so many years fighting over a thousand tiny things, spent so little time on honesty.

He will never forget what you say now. Whether he believes it or not is another story entirely. Unfortunately, it will not be a story of which you are part.

_IV_. You came back from this once before. But you can feel it in your bones, your grace, your burned-up wings, in the taste of a sealed deal upon your lips and in the turning gears and wheels of the universe: there is no return from where you’re going now.

_III_. How can your heart feel so full even as it crumbles at all the tears on his face? How can you break everything you touch and still feel so whole, still see him whole before you? How can the world end when you’re just beginning?

Nothing has ever been simple for you, not even happiness. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

_II_. It was always meant to end like this.

_I_. Last world, last words. Make them matter.

“I love you.

“Goodbye, Dean,”

**Author's Note:**

> please forgive any typos -- it's close to 1 AM, i've got work tomorrow, and i wrote this in-between refreshing the CNN electoral map, so i've got a lot going on.
> 
> rebloggable version [here](https://lies-unfurl.tumblr.com/post/634012889142935552/10-considerations-towards-a-confession). comments are, as always, cherished and appreciated.


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